Short Stacks
by TheRealEatsShootsAndLeaves
Summary: Labyrinth drabbles; all sorts of subjects, all sorts of characters. These are writing exercises of 100 - 200 words.
1. An Upsetting Interlude

_All the good stuff belongs to Henson, et. al._

_These little stories all exist in the same universe as "Color, Magic Color," but are not in any chronological order at all. If you wish, you can blame Jareth for messing with the clocks._

_AN: So of course, I earn the M rating on the first one out of the gate. I. M. Pervert. The following silliness earned it's rating because of sexual content. I apologize in advance._

**1: An Upsetting Interlude**

When Sarah crawled up between his legs with a look of delicious promise, Jareth was thrilled at the expected treat and was disappointed when he didn't get it, but that wasn't why he was upset.

She was obviously quite intoxicated, but that wasn't why he was upset.

She dozed off during their planned night of snuggling, but that wasn't why he was upset.

No, the thing that upset him, that made him angrily decide he wanted a cold shower and that he was going to bloody well make sure she had an icy cold shower, too, was that moments before she lapsed into an inebriated stupor, she had suddenly flipped herself onto her back, laid her head in his lap and drunkenly shouted, "Look, I'm a unicorn!"

_**Update:** Friend reads the above. Says "oh year, I've heard that joke." Wut? Apparently there is a unicorn-penis-forehead joke of some sort floating around out there. And I thought I was so original. Truly there is nothing new under the sun._


	2. Stupid Eddie

_All the good stuff belongs to Henson, & Co. _

_This drabble is a small portion of a larger work in progress. _

**2: Stupid Eddie**

"So, Goblin King says to Stupid Eddie, 'you remind me of the Babe' and instead of saying 'What Babe?' Stupid Eddie says 'Really?'"

"Oh no," said Esmeralda. "He didn't!"

"He did," said Wozzle. "King says 'You remind me of the Babe.' Eddie says 'Really?' I thought Goblin King was going to pull Eddie's head clean off."

"Oh dear," tsked Esmeralda. "Poor Eddie."

"Yeah," Wozzle agreed. "I think Ol' Eddie just choked. Those throne room guys do that song and dance number at least three times a week. It was just the first time Goblin King ever grabbed Stupid Eddie by the throat to start the song."

"Poor Stupid," said little Gabble. "Is he sad, Daddy?"

"I would imagine so," said Wozzle, patting Gabble on her lumpy head. "It'll be a long time before Goblin King ever grabs Stupid Eddie again. Poor fellow. His big chance to shine and he blew it."

"So then what?" asked Esmeralda, "Was the song ruined?"

"Nope," said Wozzle, breaking off a piece of bread and dipping it into his soup. "King grabbed Scuffle by the ear. Scuffle handled it like a champ. 'What Babe?' he says. It was all rock and roll after that."


	3. Beautiful Owl

_All the good stuff belongs to Henson & Co._

_Love hurts. _

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**3: Beautiful Owl**

He sat her down upon the bed and taking hold of her shoulders, gently pushed her down into the mass of pillows. She met his gaze and smiled back into his strange eyes. He bent and kissed her with cheerful abandon, his fluffy mop of soft blond hair tumbling down over his shoulders and spilling onto her chest. She wrapped her hands around him and kissed him back with purposeful intent. She paused only to look into his laughing face and pet his soft hair.

They were lying in a drift of soft white and tan feathers. The downy plumage was scattered across the bed, beautiful and delicate, rising up and dreamily floating above them at their slightest movement. She lazily fanned the air, swirling the feathers aloft.

"He's such a silly romantic," she thought indulgently.

Her gaze caught and dismissed a pinpoint of red on an ethereal white quill. Then she saw another red-tipped, soft and lovely, golden hued feather. She forgot it when he kissed her again.

Much later, as she lay with her head on his damp shoulder, she saw the tiny red pockmarked wounds on his throat, chest and stomach.


	4. The Robot

_All the good stuff belongs to Henson & Co._

**4: The Robot**

It was taking years to clean up that woman's handiwork.

Jareth bitterly surveyed the wreckage of his magnificent steam robot. The ax was lodged in the stone lintel above the gate. The bearings burned out when the arms were immobilized and the helmet was missing entirely.

"What, exactly, were you thinking?" he snapped.

Well," replied Hoggle with a bit of spirit. "I was thinkin' I should keep your robot from killin' the Queen."

Jareth gave Hoggle a sharp look. Hoggle wilted. Hoggle was considerably sassier since he had the protection of the Queen and sometimes forgot himself.

"And I gather you never considered simply putting on the brakes and dumping the steam?" Jareth was fuming at the loss. It was impossible to get parts for a unit this old.

Hoggle, embarrassed, refused to meet Jareth's gaze.

"Well, I presume it's not any worse than those idiots with the cleaner. They apparently forgot they had brakes, too." Jareth shook his head in disgust. "I suppose I should thank you for getting her out of their way."

"No problem," said Hoggle. "It was a piece of cake."

He took a gulp of air right before Jareth furiously transported him to the Bog.


	5. The Milkman

_All the good stuff belongs to Henson and Co._

_These little stories all exist in the same universe as "Color, Magic Color" but are not in any chronological order at all. If you wish, you can blame Jareth for messing with the clocks._

**5: The Milkman**

Leche halted his horse and stared in amazement at the swath of destruction extending from the front gate to the castle steps. He stepped down from the cart. He removed a crate with four glass containers of milk, and made his way across the debris to the castle.

As he neared the tall doors, he encountered a smelly and intoxicated throne room goblin. Leche curled his lip in disgust. Those fellows were always so drunk they could hardly string a sentence together. They gave decent goblins a bad name.

"Hi, milkman," slurred the goblin. "Got cheese?"

"Not for you," growled Leche. "Say, what happened? The place is a wreck."

"Queen and friends attack," said the little goblin.

"Queen?" said Leche, "what queen?"

"King's new queen," the goblin replied with a dreamy, adoring look on his grubby face.

"Since when does the King have a queen?" asked Leche in astonishment.

"Soon," said the little goblin. "King gonna fetch her back. Kiss her lots. Make Queen. Said so."

"What under earth are you talking about?" said Leche.

He received no answer. The goblin had passed out. Leche deposited his delivery and left, harboring grumpily treasonous thoughts about road maintenance and drunken goblins.

_A/N: I hope you're enjoying these teeny, tiny tales as much as I am. As a writer who never uses one word when five will do, I'm finding it to be challenging to stay under the 200 word limit. I hope there will be discernible improvement as I continue._


	6. Kiss It Better

_All the good stuff belongs to Henson and Co._

**6: Kiss It Better**

During some couch cuddling on their third date, Sarah noticed something interesting about Jareth's eyes.

"Look at that," she said, touching the light colored area beneath his left eyebrow.

"What?" he said, smiling indulgently.

"Feathers," she said. "I always thought you were wearing makeup, but those are tiny white feathers."

"Makeup?" he said, sounding hurt. "You've really never looked at me close enough to know the difference?

"Well," she said, sounding defensive and turning a little pink. "We've never been quite this close together before."

He hugged her a little closer. "Well, I think we can get even… YE-OUCH!" He scrambled away from her and leapt to his feet, clasping his hand over his eye.

Sarah sat rigidly, red with guilt, holding a tiny feather in her fingertips.

"Why would you DO that?" he yelled in surprised pain.

"I didn't think…," she said. "Jareth, I'm so sorry. Let me kiss it better."

He glared at her a moment more. She gave him a sheepish smile, patting the couch beside her. He sat and reclined across her lap, with his head on her shoulder.

"I'm so sorry," she said, kissing his forehead.

"It's ok," he said, surreptitiously peering down her blouse.

_**AN:**__ Indeed, it was a slow and rocky courtship. This little story started out at 350 words. I pared it down to 200. I'd like to think it still turned out well._


	7. Melodrama

_All the good stuff belongs to Henson and Company_

_This occurred very early in their relationship…_

**7: Melodrama**

He suddenly appeared, blocking their path and bringing the kidnapping attempt to an abrupt end.

The two miscreants released their painful grip on her arms and tried to run. A crystal slammed into one, burning the troll into ash in seconds.

As she stood paralyzed with fear and shock, he leapt past her to grab the second troll with talon tipped hands. She heard a brutally short scream and two bloody halves of troll crashed in front of her.

"I told you to never go outside the gates alone!" he roared in her face. "Never! Am I wasting my breath whenever I speak to you? Are you unable to comply with the simplest request?" He was furious. His eyes shimmered from icy blue to an inferno of gold and back again.

Speechless, she shivered. She was as afraid of him in that moment as she had been of the kidnappers.

He glared at her, outraged at the darkening bruise on her face. Suddenly, he roughly enfolded her in a fierce hug. She stiffened in fright and then felt the tremors running through him, his entire body like a coiled spring. He gasped out one broken sob.

And then she cried.


	8. Period of Adjustment

_All the good stuff belongs to Henson & Co._

**8: Period of Adjustment**

It was the morning after their first night, breakfast smelled wonderful and Sarah was in a splendid mood. As she surveyed the table before her, she was delighted to see bacon and orange juice.

The owl flew in the window, landed gracefully and transformed into Jareth. He gave her a lingering kiss and parked in the chair beside her. He snagged a scone from the breakfast tray and nibbled.

She picked up the coffee pot and poured a cup.

As she poured, Jareth reached for a small, perforated box sitting on the table. He lifted the lid and pulled a small wriggling mouse from it.

She was adding cream to her coffee when she spied the mouse. Head tilted back, Jareth was holding the dangling rodent by the tail over his open mouth. She gasped when he gulped it down whole. He licked his fingertips with evident enjoyment. He turned to see her traumatized and frozen stare.

"What?" he said.

He frowned, noting that she had poured cream into her overflowing cup and then over the saucer and tablecloth. "A bit messy, aren't we?" He shook his head and wondered if she did this sort of thing every morning.


	9. Peach Poachers

_All the good stuff belongs to Henson & Co._

_Rated M for stoner goblins._

**9: Peach Poachers**

Kleenex, Beansnort and Fuzzwaddle slowly crept down the hallway. The three goblins were on a mission that would earn either acclaim from their peers, or a thrashing from their king. They were going to attempt to sneak into the Royal Gardens and retrieve some of the King's peaches.

They had smoked all of the giggle weed, eaten all of the happy time mushrooms and, frankly, were bored with ale and the accompanying hangovers. They wanted to try the King's peaches; the tasty subjects of legend.

The door to the gardens opened with a loud creak. They peered around in fright, hoping the sound had not reached anyone important or scary.

Three minutes and three peaches later, the errant goblins were slumped in dreams about the roots of a beautiful, bountiful peach tree.

The peaches were not what they had expected, however. While they sort of liked the pretty white dresses they were suddenly wearing, their high heels were very uncomfortable. They were discomfited to be at such a fancy ball, and worst of all, the Goblin King was suddenly towering over them with a very angry face.

They tried to appeal to the Queen, but she was too busy laughing.


	10. Pouting

_All the good stuff belongs to Henson and Co._

_These little stories all exist in the same universe as "Color, Magic Color" but are not in any chronological order at all. If you wish, you can blame Jareth for messing with the clocks._

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**10: Pouting**

He sat on the edge of the crumbling masonry, swinging his feet over empty space. His feathered cape was cast aside on the dusty floor. He gloomily stared into space. The Escher Room was toast and he felt like leftover crumbs.

He cursed himself, wondering why he had thought she would stay. He was King of the Unwanted, Ruler of the Wished Away, Prince of Paupers, and yesterday's chopped liver. In the Fae Court, the Goblin Kingdom was modest and inconsequential. Fae women happily bedded him because he was pretty, insolent and amusing, but they weren't interested in his tacky kingdom, his lowly subjects, or his unimpressive court status.

And he would never tell a soul how much that upset him.

Oh, he wanted her, more than anything he had ever wanted before. She was beautiful and tough, with fiery eyes and a smart mouth. He had completely and unwittingly imprinted on her. He wanted to court and tease her, to touch her face. He wanted her to want him back.

He never got the chance. She took the baby, leaving him to realize how lonely he was.

He picked up a stone and tossed it into the void.

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_Everyone has a bad day, now and then._

_Update: Changed a couple of words to clarify meaning._


	11. Kite Day

_All the good stuff belongs to Henson and Co._

_Because I was thinking about kites._

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**11: Kite Day**

It was Kite Day and every subject from worm to rock caller was giddy with excitement. It had been a long time since the King had declared Kite Day. But today, festive subjects celebrated on the breezy hill with their personal kites, heirloom family kites and shared community kites.

When the King appeared with the brand new Queen, a roar of approval went up from the crowd.

"Long live the Queen," they cheered. They loved their new Queen. She made the King happy and they loved their spiteful, generous, tempestuous King.

The hushed crowd craned necks and stood on tiptoe to see what sort of kite the Royal Couple had. Sir Didymus approached the Queen and gave her a coil of silvery string. The crowd oohed. He gave the King a brace of colorful streamers. The crowd aahed.

The King took the end of the Queen's silver string, and leapt into the air. The sudden owl mounted to the sky with string and streamers as the crowd applauded wildly.

He soared through the sky of kites, blundering into an heirloom kite, damaging it irreparably. The jubilant owners were thrilled and proud, for the King had blessed their suddenly priceless kite.

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	12. Constant Reader

_All the good bits belong to Henson and Co._

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**12: Constant Reader**

Jareth was stretched across the bed. Arms and legs lolled over pillows and tangled in sheets and blankets. The tank t-shirt he was wearing was twisted around his shoulders. The hem was shoved up nearly to his throat. His pale, slender and exposed torso seemed to glow in the lamplight. She shook her head. He was going to strangle himself some night.

He had carried a healthy supply of books to bed this time. She saw titles concerning steam power generation, Nietzsche, and sewing. There were titles in languages she didn't recognize. Books lay face down, in peril of having their spines broken. An English dictionary suffered near his pillow, pages hanging loosely. An open, elderly book that was a real Gutenberg Bible lay near his head, with densely written notes in the margins. An unsettling copy of Mein Kampf lurked under the edge of his pillow, while the Kama Sutra sprawled invitingly.

Sarah moved enough books to clear a space for herself and crawled in next to him. When she rubbed his tummy, he made a chirring owl noise in his sleep.

She selected "Where the Wild Things Are," arranged herself comfortably against the headboard, and began to read.

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_Q: What does Jareth read?_

_A: Everything._

_Q: Where exactly ARE the wild things?_

_A: One of them is in bed next to her._

_Here's an appreciative shout out to my own Constant Readers, __**Ellen Weaver**__, __**DieKochbar**__ and __**ashley2876**__._


	13. Ludo's Bath

_All the good stuff belongs to Henson and Company, or maybe it's Disney now. At any rate, not me._

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**13: Ludo's Bath**

Ludo happily honked and mooed. He had never had a bath before. He thought the tank of warm, sudsy water was absolutely grand. The dozen goblins standing around watching this entertaining spectacle thought it was grand, too.

Jareth watched from a distance as Sarah tipped a bucket of warm water over Ludo's shaggy, wet head.

"Are you going to help," she said, "or just watch?"

"Watch. Obviously," he said. Rock callers had a certain distinct odor that Jareth disliked. Wet rock callers smelled worse. Even with camellia scented soap.

"Stand up, Ludo," she said.

He obliged and she splashed another bucket of warm water down his back. He stepped out of the tub. The goblins applauded.

Sarah leapt into Jareth's arms.

"Go! Go! Go!" she yelled as he transported them the heck out of there.

Ludo began to shake. His fur, heavy with water, swung to and fro, scattering huge droplets. As he gained momentum, the shower of water increased. A monsoon of water precipitated.

Minutes later, Jareth and Sarah reappeared, carrying towels. They surveyed the still damp rock caller and the unhappily drenched goblins.

"See," she said. "Told you I could give goblins a bath without ever touching them."

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_The idea of Ludo needing a bath has occurred to other fanfic writers and creators of fan art. I heartily agree. This is my version._


	14. The Pet

_All the good stuff belongs to Henson and Co._

_This interlude occurs at a time very early in their relationship._

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**14: The Pet**

"Sarah," he said, hesitantly. "There's something I'd like to do."

She looked up from her studies to her persistent suitor.

"I want to show you something," he said. He looked at the floor, not meeting her eyes.

He had been looking at online video. She was suddenly apprehensive, wondering what on earth he had found that would cause this unusually diffident behavior. Jareth was many things, but he had never been shy.

He knelt beside her with the laptop, and started the video. He stared at the screen, still not looking at her.

On screen, the video focused on a little barn owl poking its head out of a person's jacket. A hand petted the owl. The owl cuddled in the garment and happily chirped, warbled and nibbled on the zipper. The hand stroked the owl's beak and rubbed its snowy bib.

Sarah turned her attention to Jareth, who was spellbound by the video. He looked like he was desperate for a meal he was too embarrassed to eat.

"I have a jacket like that," she said, petting his hair.

He looked up at her, wearing an expression of complete adoration. He set the laptop aside and reached for her.

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_Go to my profile page for a link to the video Jareth was watching._


	15. Dinner Conversation

_All the good stuff belongs to Henson and Company._

_In which Sarah says a bad word._

**15: Dinner Conversation**

"So what do you do when you hang out with the guys?" Sarah asked, picking at her salad.

"Oh, fly around. Buzz goblins. Tease cats. Poop on statues. You know. Bird things," he replied.

"Wait, your friends turn to birds?" she put down her fork and regarded him with fascination.

"Well, these friends do. The Marquis de Autour turns into a sparrow hawk. Prince Johnathon turns into a peregrine falcon, and Frank is a pigeon," he said. He sipped appreciatively at his hard cider.

"And you poop on statues," she was trying, and failing, to refrain from smiling.

"Well, that's mostly Frank's thing," Jareth shrugged.

"So who is Frank when he isn't a pigeon?" she asked.

"What do you mean? He's just Frank. He's always a pigeon," he answered.

"You're friends with a pigeon?" she said, perplexed.

"Certainly. He's a very nice fellow. I used to date his sister," he said with a bland expression.

She gave him a narrow eyed glare.

"Prince Johnathon ate her, though," he continued.

Her mouth fell open.

"Don't ever tell Frank that," he said.

He held his expression manfully as she stared at him, but finally broke and began laughing.

"Smart ass," she snapped.


	16. Polishing Crystals

_The good stuff belongs to Henson and Company_.

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**16: Crystal Polishing**

The little goblin wearily polished the crystal until it sparkled. She admired her handiwork for a moment and then placed it in the basket with the others. The basket was half full and her punishment was half done.

She peeked up through her scrubby hair at the King. He lounged beside the fireplace, inspecting his fingernails. He tilted an eyebrow at her and she quickly resumed working.

"Stop," he barked, scaring her so badly she nearly dropped the crystal. "Come here," he said, and pointed to a spot by his boot.

She scurried to him, a thin, trembling little creature. She was small, little regarded, and often shoved aside.

He produced a warm bowl of meat and vegetables from a covered tray and sat it on the floor.

"Eat that," he growled. "You're too weak. You'll drop a priceless crystal and then I'll be forced to bog your worthless hide."

She flinched, but couldn't help sniffing the wonderful aroma, and was soon gobbling the feast.

Finished with her meal, she belched appreciatively, in loud goblin fashion.

"Enough," he groused. "Do the rest tomorrow. Be gone!" he waved her away.

As she fled in fright, he casually popped the shining crystals.


	17. Sartorial Limitations

_All the good stuff belongs to Henson and Company._

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**17: Sartorial Limitations**

"So just magic yourself into a different outfit and let's go!" she said impatiently.

"Magic myself… what? I can't do that. Why would you think I can do that?" he asked peevishly.

"You didn't have any problems doing quick changes when I was kicking your butt in your Labyrinth," she said.

"You did not kick my butt," he said. "I let you win."

"Huh, let me win," she scoffed.

"Yes, I let you win," he said. "I wanted you to like me so I could boink you when you were big enough."

She frowned at him.

"And I did," he grinned.

"We were talking about your clothes," she said icily.

"I can't magically change clothes," he snapped, folding his arms.

"So how did you change so fast?" she said.

"I transported to my dressing room, changed clothes and transported back," he sighed. "It was a lot of effort, too. I hope you appreciated it."

"Wait a minute! What about that white dress you changed me into?"

"That was an elaborate dream, Sarah. I didn't go diddling with your undies," he smirked at her, "At least not at that time."

"Will you go change, already?" she said and rolled her eyes.

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	18. The Gallant Knight

_All the good stuff belongs to Henson and Company._

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**18: The Gallant Knight**

"Sir Didymus is so sweet," Sarah sighed.

They were snuggling beneath a weeping willow tree, playing with the dangling foliage. Didymus was striding about on the lawn, conducting drills with a giggling crowd of young goblins and dwarves. The little ones were marching in a straggling, cavorting mob, carrying little wooden swords and wearing paper sailor hats.

She turned to Jareth, "What's his story, anyway? Can he really not smell the bog?"

"His story? Didymus was a Yorkshire tod. He ended up here when an angry farmer's wife wished him out of her henhouse," Jareth mused.

"How did he end up as a knight spouting old-fashioned English?" she asked, laughing.

"I offered him his dreams, of course. He was sensible enough to take them."

"Pretty elaborate dreams for a fox." She sounded unconvinced.

"When he first arrived, he dreamed of eating my chickens," he laughed. "After a while, he became more educated and his dreams grew accordingly. He wanted to become a bold, gallant knight, fighting for the right."

"And you gave him those dreams," she said. "You are generous."

"And I needed someone to guard the bog, so I pinched his sense of smell," Jareth said.

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_Generous AND self-serving_.


	19. Defenestration

_All the good stuff belongs to Henson and Company._

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**19: Defenestration**

"What's going on here?" Jareth grumped testily. He glared at the throne room goblins. They were all suspiciously clean and sober. There seemed to be twice as many of them and some of them were very short.

"It's take you kid to work day," offered a particularly pinkish and freshly scented goblin.

"What? Why?" he snapped. This could only end in aggravation.

"It was our beloved Queen's idea," added a second goblin. "Long may she peacefully reign."

Jareth's eyebrows went up. Now there was a completely sober goblin. He regarded the tiny goblin holding the sober goblin's hand. She was wearing a little pink dress and had a large white bow tied in her sparse black hair. She was definitely the ugliest youngster he had ever seen.

"The Queen has a lot of ideas," he muttered. "My dear," he said to the child. "Would you like to be defenestrated?"

The crowd gasped as he booted her through the open window.

The child tucked and rolled when she hit the ground, then hopped to her feet and did a fist-pump in the air.

"A lovely child," said Jareth, as the sober goblin proudly accepted congratulations from the cheering crowd.


	20. A Midnight Discourse

_The good stuff belongs to Henson and Company_

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**20: A Midnight Discourse**

She sat next to the fireplace, gazing into the flames.

"You look sad," he said. He was leaning against the mantel, watching her.

"I miss my family," she sighed. "Living for a very, very long time has its drawbacks. Jareth," she said, "What would you have done if I had refused to come with you?"

"I would have dragged you down here, kicking and screaming," he said quietly.

"I'm serious," she said.

He looked up at her and held her glance for a moment and then looked away without answering.

"Would you have done that?" she was shocked.

"What difference does it make? You came willingly. We're happy." He was wishing he had left her to her thoughts.

"That isn't love. That's possession," she was becoming indignant. "What if it would have killed me to come down here?"

"Then you would have died in my arms!" he suddenly shouted.

She sat, open mouthed with tears starting in her eyes.

"I don't know what I would have done," he said. "I don't want to think about it too much, because I might have done that. I might have stolen you."

They stared into the flames, afraid to look at each other.


	21. Bird Brains

_All the good stuff belongs to Henson and Company_

_This will only make sense if you're read "15: Dinner Conversation."_

_And… if you don't like silly stories with vulgar innuendos, you should definitely skip this one. Fairly warned be thee, says I.  
_

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**21: Bird Brains**

Sarah entered the room to see two expensively dressed gentlemen and an elegant lady visiting with Jareth.

"Come, Sarah," he said, "I'd like you to meet our guests. This is Prince Johnathan of Falco, and this is Sir Franklin of The Western Edge and his lovely sister, Miss Anne Dove."

Sarah graciously greeted the guests. Johnathan was a tall, handsome fellow with an open smile. Franklin was an affable, short and somewhat rotund gentleman with a booming laugh, and Anne was a lovely, engaging young woman.

The group quickly became friendly, chattering and laughing merrily.

"Oh, wait," said Sarah. "You're Frank the pigeon."

Jareth winced at her bluntness, but Frank only laughed.

"I am indeed, Frank the pigeon."

"Oh my," Sarah laughed. "Jareth tells such silly stories." She turned to Anne. "He said that Johnathan ate you."

Anne and Johnathan both turned a guilty, guilty, beet red. Jareth put his head in his hands as Frank suddenly looked furious.

"Just what have you been doing with my sister, Johnny Boy?" he growled.

The resident birdwatchers of the Labyrinth were astounded when they looked up and saw a raging pigeon in hot pursuit of a terrified falcon and a protesting owl.

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_Just to be perfectly blunt and perfectly vulgar, yes, he DID eat her. She loved it._


	22. Physics and Astronomy

_All the good stuff belongs to Henson and Company_

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**22: Physics and Astronomy**

"I hadn't expected a sun in the sky," she said. "It was overcast the first time I was here. I didn't realize you could see the sun." She turned to him. "I thought we were underground. How can we see the sun?"

"We're not actually inside the Earth, Sarah," he laughed. "We're underground in the same sense that mobsters or other clandestine individuals are considered to be underground."

"What? Explain, please." she said.

"Our world is…, let's say, next to the mortal world. It inhabits the same space, but exists on a different, well, plane, I suppose." He sighed. "It's difficult to explain, but we have the same sun, moon and stars that one would see in the mortal world. So we are next to that world, but not of that world."

"I'm glad I can see the sun, moon and stars here," she leaned into him and he embraced her.

"Does it make it easier?" he asked.

"Yes." She smiled up at him, "Will you move the stars for me?"

"Good heavens, no!" he sounded horrified. "That causes cataclysmic problems. Never again!"

"So when you said you move the stars for no one…?"

"I wasn't kidding!" he said, shuddering.


	23. Tight Pants

_All the good stuff belongs to Henson and Company_

_From a clever idea by Ellen Weaver_

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**23: Tight Pants**

He stood in front of the mirror, admiring his new breeches. He ran his hand down his backside. The material was soft and malleable, and his rump was firm and smooth. His package looked pretty good, too, impressive, even. He regarded his shirt for a moment and undid the top button. Much better. He tossed his head to tousle his hair. Yes, that worked. He was finally ready.

He turned to find the Queen looking at him with an eyebrow raised.

"Do you really need to wear your pants that tight?" she asked. "They leave little to the imagination."

"I happen to like how I'm dressed," he said. "Why shouldn't I dress as I please?"

"It's too revealing," she grumbled.

"Do you really not like how I dress?" he sounded a bit hurt.

"Oh…, I don't like how women look at you," she admitted, frowning.

"Would they stop looking if I dressed differently?"

She looked at his blue eyes, blonde hair, high cheek bones and slender form.

"I doubt it," she sighed.

"Do I look good to you?" he asked.

She smiled.

"Then stop slut-shaming me," he sniffed.

She frowned, mesmerized by his pert backside, as he strutted away.

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_He can't help being beautiful. _


	24. Playing Hardball

_The good stuff belongs to Henson And Company._

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**24: Playing Hardball**

She was standing regally at the window, surveying the construction proceeding in the city square. A large parchment scroll was unfurled and draped across the desk. A site plan with meandering paths, small pavilions, benches, landscaping, and a lavish cricket ground was written large in beautifully colored inks and paints.

A knock was heard at the door, and a clean, bright and finely dressed goblin appeared.

"My Queen," the goblin greeted her and bowed deeply. "I am happy to report that the shipment of copper pipe and brass fittings has arrived. The tradesmen are already fabricating the fountain to Her Majesty's specifications."

"Thank you, Quercus," said Sarah. "Tell the tradesmen I expect their very best work."

"Yes, My Queen," Quercus replied. He left with an air of satisfaction and importance.

A mischievous smile crept over her face. It would be difficult to say who would be more appalled by the new fountain, Hoggle, or Jareth. They had made the mistake of preferring cricket, and voting against her on the softball field question. A fountain featuring Hoggle relieving himself into a pool would be a fine addition to the new park.

Revenge was best served cold and wet.

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_In today's episode, we discover that Sarah likes softball and won't be crossed._


	25. A Stunning Reversal

_All the good stuff belongs to Henson And Company_

_This will only make sense if you read "24: Playing Hardball" first._

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**25: A Stunning Reversal**

When the shroud was pulled from the fountain statue, there was a gasp from the crowd. There on the central pedestal stood a bronze Hoggle in all his glory, proudly pissing a twelve foot geyser into the air. Hesitant and confused applause filled the air.

Nearly quaking with suppressed glee, Sarah serenely surveyed the faces of Hoggle and Jareth, hoping for signs of distress. Jareth did not disappoint. His eyes were huge, his brow was knitted, his mouth was gaping and a flush of red anger was expanding across his face.

Hoggle, however, was wearing an expression of astonishment. When he turned to Sarah, tears were sparkling in his eyes. Sarah had a terrible pang of guilt at the sight.

"That's a statue of me when we first mets," he said, sniffing. "That's the sweetest thing anybody ever done fer me." He blew his nose.

Sarah's face was a study in frustrated confusion. Hoggle gazed up at her with pride and adoration. By now, Jareth was wearing an evil Mona Lisa smile.

The King threw his hands in the air and bellowed, "I name thee Prince of Fountains!"

Hoggle burst into happy tears as Sarah glared at the triumphant Jareth.

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_Bazinga!_


	26. As the Worm Turns

_All the good stuff belongs to Henson And Company_

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**26: As the Worm Turns**

"What about Earl Gray, then, 'ave we any of that?" he said in a querulous high pitched voice. He was a good looking worm, with blue fluffy hair, a fine fat body and a handsome bulbous head. He was sitting on the threshold of his humble home, sharply dressed in an extraordinarily long red scarf.

"No, you've 'ad every bit of it and we've nowt left," an even higher pitched feminine voice answered from inside.

"Well, 'ow the devil am I supposed to enjoy me afternoon tea, wi' nobbut the biscuits?" he grumbled. "You can't very well 'ave tea without tea, now can you?"

"Well, if you'd stop givin' it all away to every likely lass that comes trippin' through 'ere, we wouldn't be out of tea, now would we?" came the very sharp answer. "You might try thinkin' sommat on your wife and whether she might like a cup the next time you 'ave a mind to be chatting up some pretty little bird."

"Well, bloody 'ell!" he yelled. "I'll tell the next bird to come in and meet the missus."

"Fine, then," she yelled back.

"And I 'ope it's a fat 'ungry robin, too," he growled to himself.

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_Because in a British manner of speaking, a "bird" is a pretty girl…_


	27. Logic and Other False Premises

All the good stuff belongs to Henson And Company.

**27: Logic and Other False Premises**

"The door riddle was too easy," she laughed.

"It was?" said the Door Guard to her right.

"You said 'One of us always tells the truth and one of us always lies.' The guard explaining the rules has to be telling the truth, otherwise there's no game. So, that pretty much gives it away before you even get started," she said smugly.

The Door Guards looked confused.

She pointed at the Door Guard to her left. "You said, 'You can only ask one of us,' and you were lying, so I could have asked more than one question," she said, adding smugly, "of course I didn't need to. I was able to figure it out with one question."

Jareth was baffled by the exchange.

"So," he finally said, "we should post a sign with the rules, maybe?"

"And another thing," she indignantly turned on him, causing his eyebrows to raise. "I was right, so why did I end up with the Certain Death door?"

"Sarah," he grinned. "Did you DIE?"

She gaped at him.

"You weren't choosing between good and bad," he laughed. "You were choosing between bad and worse."

The Door Guards giggled as the Queen huffed in annoyance.


	28. Good Morning

All the good stuff belongs to Henson And Company.

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**28: Good Morning**

He awoke but did not immediately stretch or open his eyes. He was warm, comfortable and loathe to move. He began to take stock of his situation. He was being spooned. An arm reached under his neck and bent back over his chest. Another arm reached around and over him at his waist. The hand at the end of that arm was gently rubbing his tummy. That felt nice. That made him feel cuddly and snuggly. He made a soft trilling owl noise and leaned back into the spoon. He was almost always being spooned when he woke up now. It was marvelous.

She burrowed her face into his fluffy hair and held him a little tighter. He was much more satisfying to spoon than a pillow. She smiled when he made a little trilling sound. She loved that sound. She kissed the side of his neck and grinned when he trilled again. Her smile became a little wider. She decided she would see if she could get some louder noises out of him before she let him out of the bed chamber.

But first she would offer him a mint. He always had mouse breath in the morning.

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_Jareth likes a midnight snack._


	29. Red

_All the good stuff belongs to Henson And Company_

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**29: Red**

"How did you even get this?" she asked.

"Well, it was wished away of course! Isn't it magnificent?" he was beside himself with excitement. A goblin tried to pet the glossy paint of the red '65 Mustang convertible and was abruptly booted across the town square.

"Mine!" he snarled, causing his subjects to scatter like quail. "Oh, and yours," he added, catching Sarah's narrowed eyes.

"Do we have gasoline in the Underground?" she asked. "What about oil? Tires? Cars need lots of maintenance, Jareth."

He glared at her, protectively touching the hood. "Mine," he repeated.

"I'm not saying you have to give it up, Dearest," she soothed. "Why was it wished away?"

"Divorce. Angry ex-wife," he said, getting into the driver's seat. He preened in the rear view mirror. "Husband's running the Labyrinth."

"How's he doing?" Sarah asked.

"He's in the oubliette and he's staying there," Jareth said, petting the steering wheel.

"Is that fair? Just leaving him in the oubliette?" Sarah asked.

He ignored her and played with the knobs on the dashboard while murmuring under his breath.

"Jareth, did you just tell that car you would be its slave?" she snapped.

He refused to meet her eyes.

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_Update: Nearly forgot to credit Ellen Weaver for some clever ideas in this shortie._


	30. An Afternoon Off

All the good stuff belongs to Henson And Company.

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**30: An Afternoon Off**

Hoggle was humming happily. He was having a great day. He was up to forty-five on the dead fairy count, and it was nearly lunchtime. Earlier, a runner had bribed him with a snazzy sports themed charm bracelet in exchange for entrance into the Labyrinth. Best of all, Hoggle had the afternoon off and planned to do some fishing. He expected to have excellent luck, too, for he had forty-five pieces of the best fish bait in the Underground.

The bracelet caught the sun as he stalked another fairy. He soon had another piece of fish bait. He heard a clamor and looked up to see Sir Didymus approaching.

Didymus had his poor canine palfrey laden with all manner of fishing accoutrements. There were three individual tackle boxes hanging from the saddle, and Didymus was holding a quiver of fishing poles in his hands. He was having difficulty managing the poles and poor Ambrosias yelped when a pole smacked him over the head.

"We must hurry, for Ludo approaches," panted Didymus.

"Oh, damn," said Hoggle, grabbing up his own tackle box and single pole.

They quickly departed, for although they loved their brother Ludo, he always scared the fish.


	31. All in a Day's Work

_All the good stuff belongs to Henson And Company._

_These little stories all exist in the same universe as "Color, Magic Color" but are not in any chronological order at all. If you wish, you can blame Jareth for messing with the clocks._

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**31: All in a Day's Work**

The child was a brown eyed little boy with dark chocolate skin and a crown of dense black curls. He was staring with rapt attention at the brightly colored rattle Jareth was shaking in front of him. When the baby reached for the toy, Jareth pulled it out of his reach, made a chirping noise and waggled his eyebrows at him. The infant chortled.

"Gonna keep 'im?" asked the goblin currently standing on the toe of Jareth's boot in order to be just tall enough to see the infant.

"Get off my foot," Jareth replied absently, surveying the bruises with concealed anger. "Yes, I'm keeping him," he said. The child's ill-tempered caretaker was currently sitting outside the front gate in a snit. She had insulted Hoggle grievously. She would get no assistance and was nearly out of time.

"Whacha gonna do with 'im?" the goblin asked.

"We'll see," he said and pulled the infant's shirt up. Goblins and infant howled with laughter as Jareth blew noisy blatting sounds on the baby's tummy. Jareth smiled. He knew of a dozen couples who would give their heart's blood to have this child. He winced as the baby gleefully yanked his hair.

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	32. The Daily Grind

_All the good stuff belongs to Henson And Company._

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**32: The Daily Grind**

"Well, that bloody tears it!" he roared. Jareth was very annoyed. He stomped across the office and threw himself into the leather chair. The chair groaned in protest as he swiveled around and rolled to the massive mahogany desk. "I hate this stupid job!"

"What's wrong, Dearest?" Sarah soothed. She was busily going over the inventories and was punching numbers into an antiquated desktop adding machine that weighed approximately fifty pounds. She pulled the handle and the numbers rolled and the machine made a satisfying mechanical crunch.

"An extremely naughty little boy tried to wish away an unmade bed and a full garbage can," he grumped.

A giggle sneaked out before she could stop it. "I'm sorry," she said. "What did you do?"

"I left him right where I found him, along with his unfinished chores." He thumped his fist on the table. "I scared him though. He'll need fresh underwear, I should imagine, and I doubt he'll be wishing away any chums or relatives." He put his head in his hands. "I need a vacation," he griped.

"Well, where do you want to go?" she said, humoring him.

"SoHo," he grumbled. "I want to go to SoHo."

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_He won't get to go to SoHo._

_In a making-of-the-Labyrinth documentary, David Bowie comments that the Goblin King doesn't really like his job collecting children and would "rather be in SoHo."_


	33. Fowl Manners

_All the good stuff belongs to Henson and Company_

_This will only make sense if you have read 15: Dinner Conversation and 21: Bird Brains._

_If you are offended by silly stories and extremely vulgar jokes, you should skip this one. Fairly warned be thee, says I._

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**33: Fowl Manners**

An owl and a pigeon flew in the open window and landed in two heaps. Jareth and Franklin transformed and slowly and drunkenly got to their feet. Their clothes were tattered, their knuckles and faces wore bruises, and they carried an unpleasant odor.

Sarah took in their appearance with trepidation.

"What happened?" she asked meekly. She felt very guilty.

Franklin threw his arm over Jareth's shoulder.

"They're 'lopin'," he slurred. "My lil' squab sis' gonna be a princess." He wore a sloppy grin.

"What he means to say, is that Johnathan and Anne have eloped," Jareth said slowly and carefully.

"Oh, that's… wonderful," Sarah hazarded a guess, "isn't it?"

By this time Franklin was slumped on the couch, snoring.

Jareth looked carefully at Sarah.

"We left Miss Anne here when we…," he paused.

"Went off to fight, get drunk and apparently make up?" Sarah asked quietly.

"Ah, yes," Jareth said. "Did she and you… have words?"

"Not exactly," mumbled Sarah, looking at the floor. She pointed to the couch where Miss Anne Dove had been seated. A happily humming goblin maid was busily scrubbing foul smelling streaks of white from the couch.

"She did express her opinion before she left."

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_Pigeons are gross._


	34. Stress

_All the good stuff belongs to Henson And Company._

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**34: Stress**

He was nervous about being at the Fae court. The ugly memories of resentments and slights crept over him. He had always been found wanting here and feared that his lowly status might reflect on her. He could see courtiers smirking, and wondered if they were laughing at him.

He watched her as she circled the room in a slow stately waltz with the High King. She looked happy and relaxed. Jareth didn't know what he would do if she suddenly frowned, if she looked sad, if someone was cruel to her. He was upset to the point that he could feel the talons sprouting inside his soft leather gloves. He probably had feathers sprouting in his hair, too. He felt out of control and miserable.

The dance ended agreeably. She was having an acceptable, if somewhat dull, evening until she looked at him and saw the pain he was trying to hide. She stood next to him, taking his hand.

"Take me home so I can make love to you," she whispered.

Suddenly, he could see himself through her eyes, and he was smart, beautiful, and important.

"And one lucky son of an owl," he thought, smiling at last.


	35. Tip of the Hat

All the good stuff belongs to Henson And Company.

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**35: Tip of the Hat**

"Keep walking! Keep walking!" yelled the Hat in a vain attempt to distract the Wise Man. "Look! Look! Naked ladies! Look over there! Money! Money lying in the street! Watch out! Rabid dog! Rabid dog! Run!"

The Wise Man was standing in front of a combination haberdashery and millinery. He was peering into the open door at the selection of gentlemen's and lady's hats. The Hat perched on his head was appalled at this sudden turn of events.

"NO!" howled the hat as the Wise Man walked into the shop.

The sales goblin, who was working on commission, quickly approached the Wise Man. The Hat began to curse the sales goblin, hurling terrible obscenities and threats.

"Be quiet!" the sales goblin and the Wise Man shouted in unison. The Hat subsided in misery, his long neck drooping in sorrow.

"I have a lovely selection of hats for fine gentlemen," the sales goblin gushed.

"Actually, I'm interested in the lady's hats," said the Wise Man.

"Huh?" the sales goblin and the Hat responded in unison.

"I'd like for my Hat to have a companion," the Wise Man said.

Hat's beady eyes glowed with sudden happiness and for once he was speechless.


	36. Comfort

_All the good stuff belongs to Henson And Company._

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**36: Comfort**

When he came into the room, she was sprawled on the bed, weeping as if her heart was breaking. He regarded her for a moment, then crossed the room, knelt beside the bed and gently stroked her head. He kissed her cheek and, removing his gloves, rubbed her back.

She turned her head and met his gaze. Tears were blurring her eyes, but she had stopped sobbing, and was merely hiccupping a bit.

He sat on the bed beside her and transformed into a small owl.

The owl marched back and forth on the bed. It chirruped and purred. It nibbled at her sleeve and pulled at the fabric. It fluffed its feathers up mightily and stomped about. The owl caught her eye and scooted backward as it spread its wings.

When the owl took a pratfall off the bed, she chuckled a bit. When its head popped up over the edge of the bed with feathers askew, she laughed.

The owl transformed back into her lover.

He sat down again and placed his hand on her shoulder.

"I wish I could make it all better, Precious," he said.

"Close enough, Babe," she said, and patted his knee.

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_Why is she crying? Doesn't matter. Life is full of sorrows that create a need for comforting. This was one of them._


	37. The Graduate

_All the good stuff belongs to Henson And Company_

_This little story goes hand in hand with "38: Coffee."_

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**37: The Graduate**

She walked through the front door and tossed her jacket onto the couch next to a black vinyl folder. She sat down beside the jacket, opened the folder and admired her diploma. The celebrating was over. She had a Bachelor's degree now.

She was a fully-fledged adult now. She had acquired a degree, an apartment, an automobile and an excellent credit rating. She had worked at part-time jobs, free-lanced, and interned at a multi-national corporation. She had played Titania in Midsummer Night's Dream and had lived in Paris for six months. In two more years she would have her Master's degree and an impressive resume.

She had fulfilled many dreams, but she had many dreams left. She felt breathless and hopeful.

She wasn't going to wait any longer. She had promised herself that the minute she had graduated, she would do this. She hoped for luck. She hoped for second chances.

She took two cups from the cupboard and placed them on the table. She started the coffee pot and sat down.

She took a deep breath and said, "I wish the Goblin King would come have coffee with me."


	38. Coffee

_All the good stuff belongs to Henson And Company._

_This little story goes hand in hand with "37: The Graduate."_

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**38: Coffee**

He had been sauntering across the marketplace, casually greeting subjects, delighting a few of them when he remembered and called them by name. It had been a completely ordinary day.

When he heard the summons, he paid little attention at first. But then the words sank in. He recognized the voice, too, that wonderful, sassy, smart-mouthed voice.

He stopped in his tracks and stood utterly still, eyes wide in astonishment. It couldn't be true. He couldn't imagine it could be true.

"I wish the Goblin King would come have coffee with me."

Coffee sounded like the most wonderful beverage in the universe. He had instantaneously developed an insatiable thirst for coffee. He knew he had to get hold of himself. Hope had clawed its way up from his belly and was now juggling with his heart. He realized that he was smiling like a complete idiot. He couldn't stop, even though he might get hurt and suffer great pain and disappointment.

This could be his only chance, he realized. There might be no second chances. He had to be careful. He had to be perfect. He was suddenly terrified.

"Great Henson's Ghost," he said to himself. "What should I wear?"

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	39. A Successful Event

_All the good stuff belongs to Henson And Company_

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**39: A Successful Event**

"I'd say that was an exciting success," she said happily. She was very pleased.

Jareth was sprawled upon the throne, looking a little thick through the middle. He had eaten so much, his normally rail thin person was bulging a little at the tummy. He was wearing a sated, drowsy smile and looked quite content.

"I agree. We should do this again. Except no goblins. Their manners are disgusting," he grumped, and then burped rather noisily. He sneered at the bloated goblins snoring on the floor.

"I'll have to get tomatoes from Hoggle," she said, "and we'll need cheese. We'll have to send some scouts Above to get some oregano, though."

Oregano did not grow in the Underground. It refused to bow to Hoggle's green thumb. He produced baskets of garlic and basil, however, so that somewhat mollified his frustrations.

Sarah was smiling to herself as she began to make plans. Jareth roused himself from the throne and made his way to her side.

"Precious, Pizza Night was wonderful, but I think I need to lie down," he said and gave her a kiss.

"No one said it had to be Ale Night, too," she groused as he stumbled away.

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_Nice change to see Jareth bulging somewhere else._


	40. The Couch

All the good stuff belongs to Henson And Company

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**40: The Couch**

"And then I found out that he had known about it for two weeks, but had forgotten to tell me," she said. She took a sip of her iced tea. "I didn't think I would ever get it sorted out. There were some very upset goblins."

Sir Franklin of the Western Edge laughed heartily at Jareth's discomfiture over Sarah's story. Franklin was quite an affable fellow and one of Jareth's oldest friends. This meant that they took great pleasure in tormenting each other whenever possible.

"So, old boy, did you get to sleep on the couch that night?" Franklin teased Jareth.

"Sleep on the couch," said Sarah, sounding confused. "Whatever for?"

"Well," said Franklin, sounding a bit confused himself. "Many a sad fellow has been relegated to the couch when he offends his better half. He certainly caused you no end of trouble. So I would assume that's where he slept."

Sarah gazed evenly at Franklin until he started to squirm.

"Nonsense," she replied. "I didn't do anything wrong, why should I be deprived?"

She sipped more tea as Jareth smugly preened. Franklin stared at her with an open mouth and a great deal of envy toward his oldest friend.

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_Yeah, she can talk smack about him, but ain't nobody else gonna._


	41. Spies

_All the good stuff belongs to Henson And Company._

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**41: Spies**

They were hiding in the tall grass, lying flat and peering into the sunlit field below. She was snugged up against him, nervous, but very excited. Hoggle was on the other side of him, holding a spyglass to one eye.

"Do you see anything, yet?" whispered Jareth.

"Nope," replied Hoggle. "Nothin' yet."

"Give me the glass," said Jareth.

"No," said Hoggle, forgetting himself.

"Did you just tell me no?" growled Jareth in a menacing undertone. Hoggle gulped.

"Jareth," Sarah attempted to distract him. "When will we see them?"

"Any minute now," he replied. "Give me that glass, right now!" he threatened Hoggle.

Hoggle reluctantly handed the spyglass over. Jareth began to peer through the lens. He could see nothing but a blur. Grumbling, he adjusted the focus and the meadow swam into view. He could see some brightly colored movement.

"There!" he hissed. "If you had bloody focused, you would have seen them!"

"I had it focused," Hoggle whined.

"Bloody well did not," grumped Jareth.

"Give me the glass," whispered Sarah and Jareth handed it over.

As Jareth and Hobble continued to fuss, Sarah gazed in awe at the infant dragons gamboling in the grass in front of their den.


	42. The Coversationalist

_All the good stuff belongs to Henson And Company._

_This story is a companion to "35: Tip of the Hat."_

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**42: The Conversationalist**

The Hat used to despise the Wise Man's frequent naps. The Hat had a lot to say, but it was unsatisfying when he didn't have an audience. So the Hat had been thrilled when the Wise Man had purchased the beautiful, pink, feathered Lady Hat, with her charming dotted swiss veil and her fancy brass hat stand, to be the Hat's companion.

Sadly, his expectations had gone somewhat awry. She was lovely, of course, affectionate, and very sweet to him, but she was extremely talkative. In fact, he never seemed to get a word in at all. She would prattle on, night and day, about anything and everything; from the price of shoes, to the possibilities of pirate ships. She talked about sealing wax. She expounded on the various varieties of cabbage. She gossiped about the King's haircut. The Hat was very fond of her but sometimes he wished she would be quiet and let him talk for a change.

When he mentioned this to the Wise Man, the old fellow had put on a beatific smile and said nothing at all. Sometimes the Hat just didn't understand the Wise Man.

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_Pop Quiz: What poem is referenced here? No fair Googling._


	43. Polarity

_All the good stuff belongs to Henson And Company._

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**43: Polarity**

When the horse threw her off, he nearly went mad. The paddock was charred earth now. The horse, unhinged but unsinged, had been sent to the mines. The lightly scorched trainer, sans eyebrows, had been banished.

She contemplated the possibilities of his rage. He could have killed everyone in the vicinity, but didn't. She wondered how much influence she had in damping his fires. Those blazing crystals, full of burning and fury; he called them 'fire crystals.' She thought they were more like Molotov cocktails.

She was resting in bed, because it hurt to sit. She had landed on her behind and there was a blue bruise, lightening to yellow, across her backside. She was past the uncomfortable cold compress stage now, and was to the comforting warm blankets stage. The herbalist had medicines that helped, but her body still ached whenever she moved.

She snuggled into the pillow. A little chirring sound came from beside the pillow, a warm wing adjusted itself over her ear and a small warm body snuggled against the back of her head.

"You think my head will hatch?" she said, and a chirping, laughing sound came from the ferocious, powerful, adorable, little owl.


	44. Queen Takes King

_All the good stuff belongs to Henson And Company._

_Pure, unadulterated fluff._

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**44: Queen Takes King**

The morning rites and customs done,  
The guests all stuffed and fed,  
They bid a hasty fare-thee-well,  
And to the garden fled.

He chased her through the flowers.  
Taking wing to fly.  
She teased and laughed and so did he.  
He kissed her and she sighed.

She spoke of babies, time and love.  
He held her all the while.  
He told that he loved her, and  
She danced to make him smile.

The evening found them sitting  
Midst candlelight and wine.  
He sang to her of lilies, and  
How foxes spoil the vines.

With trembling hands and brimming hearts,  
They lay down side by side.  
When flesh was torn, the pain was hers,  
But he, the one who cried.

When the stars came out that night,  
Aglow with all their charms,  
They found the King content at last,  
Asleep within her arms.

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_Had to repost this because of line-spacing error. You learn something new every day._


	45. Naughty Little Girls

_All the good stuff belongs to Henson And Company._

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**45: Naughty Little Girls**

The goblins were regaling the Queen with tales of adventure and glory.

"It was a bad lil' girl," said Joe Bob. "Very bad."

"Rude to old folks and granny," added an indignant Baconbits.

"She mocked them and shocked them," hissed Delilah.

"Said she didn't care at all!' squawked Beaky.

"Well," said Sarah. "That does sound very naughty. What did you do?"

"Two big black scary things grab her and go ZOOM right up through the ceiling!"

"Two big goblins?" She sounded doubtful.

"No, four small," said Baconbits. "We stand on top of each other with big coats."

"I see," she said, hiding a smile.

"Yep, we gonna get them, if they don't watch out!"

"Quite a wretched child," the King chimed in, pacing about the throne room. "It was her great misfortune to have an ill-tempered grandmother. It's almost unheard of for grandparents to wish them away, no matter how bratty they are. Of course, I've met Granny in the past."

"Really?" said Sarah.

Jareth sighed. "Granny was Baconbits' sister."

"She's done that twice!" gasped Sarah. "That's horrible!"

Jareth looked puzzled, "No it isn't. That's how we got Baconbits." He affectionately booted the proudly beaming goblin across the room.

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_Bragging rights go to those who can figure out the referenced poem without Googling. _


	46. Shocking Developments

_All the good stuff belongs to Henson And Company._

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**46: Shocking Developments**

He stomped into the Royal Suite. He was dusty, disheveled and seemed out of sorts. He stalked over to the bar, pulled out a flask of brown liquid and splashed a healthy portion into a glass.

Sarah watched this performance with curiosity as he flopped down into his favorite overstuffed chair.

"Is something wrong?" she asked, putting her pen down and facing him.

"No," he barked.

"Oh, really," she said. "Are you sure you don't want to talk about it?" she said in an encouraging voice.

"If you must know, my solar panel experiment failed," he grumbled. "Again."

"Oh?" she said.

"There was a slight miscalculation. Some goblins were singed," he sighed.

"Are they alright?" she gasped.

"Well, of course they're alright," he huffed. "Why wouldn't they be? THEY weren't holding the feeder line when they let the wires cross." He swallowed half of his drink in one gulp.

She took a closer look at him. His hair seemed to be extremely poofy. He was carrying a slight odor of burnt feathers.

"Has this happened before?" she asked.

"Yes," he mumbled, and finished his drink.

"Often?" she asked.

He glared at her.

Well, she thought. That finally explains the hair.

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_Today we learn that electrical engineering is more difficult than magic, and Jareth can survive a considerable amount of voltage._


	47. Iggy Pops In For a Visit

_All the good stuff belongs to Henson And Company._

_Part of the following conversation refers back to a conversation that took place in "17: Sartorial Limitations."_

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**47: Iggy Pops In For a Visit**

Jareth was slicing an apple and feeding it to the small elf on his lap. The little elf's tears had dried on his face but he still sniffled occasionally. He was dutifully, if not enthusiastically, eating the slices.

"Oh, dear," said Sarah, standing in the archway. "What happened?"

"Well," said Jareth, "Iggy, here, is having a nice apple, aren't you little fellow?"

Iggy leaned against the King and eyed the Queen mistrustfully. He took another slice and munched on it.

"His reprehensible nanny is sulking in the Labyrinth. She will fail and no doubt be fired. Perhaps from a cannon. Iggy's father, Lord Greenbriar, will be arriving shortly to collect his son." Jareth patted the child's back. Iggy sighed heavily and wrapped his little arms around Jareth's neck.

"Wait, isn't that against the rules?" she said, confused.

"No," he said, sounding smug. "The rules always apply. Technically, Lord Greenbriar is going to adopt this wished away child."

"Wait, could I have adopted Toby if I lost?" she asked.

"Not an issue. I let you win, remember," he grinned. "Wanted to boink you when you were big enough, remember?"

"Boink," Iggy said suddenly. "Boink, boink."

"Uh oh," said the Goblin King.


	48. Eye of the Beholder

_All the good stuff belongs to Henson And Company._

_These little stories all exist in the same universe as "Color, Magic Color," but are not in any chronological order at all. If you wish, you can blame Jareth for messing with the clocks._

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**48: Eye of the Beholder**

Sarah was outraged. "A disability is no reason to turn a child into an ugly goblin!"

"I won't give her to the Fae," he said shortly.

"That's not fair!" she blustered. "That's…"

"You know what?" he said. "Hush." Ignoring her indignation, he called "Send them in."

Two small, neatly dressed goblins walked timidly into the throne room, gawking about.

"Hello Cobble. Hello Tulip," he said. The goblins bowed deeply. "I have something for you," Jareth said bending down and handing a newly transformed goblin baby to Tulip.

Tulip gasped at the child in her arms and burst into tears. Jareth lifted the baby's skirt. Cobble gazed at the misshapen foot wide-eyed.

"Why, look at that. She'll be able to stomp grapes, churn butter, better than anybody. She'll prob'ly be famous or somethin'," Cobble exclaimed, awestruck by the wonderful, amazing baby.

"Beautiful," sobbed Tulip, "She's so beautiful."

"Now Dearie, stop cryin'." Cobble sniffled.

"Thank you, Your Majesty, oh, thank you," Tulip wept. Cooing and sobbing over their precious bundle, the joyous goblins left.

"They will love her, Sarah," he said, turning to her. "They're kind. She'll have a wonderful, joyful life, I promise."

"Fair enough," she said, taking his hand.


	49. Seduction

_All the good stuff belongs to Henson And Company._

_Although not explicit, this one definitely earns an M rating._

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**49: Seduction**

She was naked between his legs, leaning back against his bare chest. Her arms draped over his thighs as she rested her hands on his knobby knees. He bent his head forward, leaning the side of his face against her temple, and looked appreciatively at the tender pink vista spread before him. She sighed, and her bosom moved enticingly. She smiled to feel his response slyly nudge her hip.

He conjured three crystals and held them in front of her in his nimble left hand. The crystals swirled and spun, breaking the sunlight into shards of rainbow and bolts of fire. Images were beginning to take shape in the glass; images of herself, images of him, loving each other.

"What would you like to do," he asked. "Would you like this, or this? What about this?" The globes danced before her eyes offering visions of tangled limbs, feverish movement and languid kisses.

"Why does this one keep juggling to the top?" she said, wearing a tiny smile.

"I like that one," he said. "Do you like that one?"

"I do," she said. "I think we should do that one."

He smiled.

"First," she added.

His smile became a wide grin.


	50. Change of Atmosphere

_All the good stuff belongs to Henson And Company._

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**50: Change of Atmosphere**

It was late and the fire was dying. The fireplace cast feeble light in the lonely bedchambers.

She was bundled into the blankets by herself. She was awake and worried. He hadn't arrived home at the expected time. It was snowing outside. She shivered.

A thump and a rattle alerted her to his sudden presence at the window. She heard brief scuffling of clever owl feet as he manipulated the window. A small barn owl flitted across the room and landed in a flurry of feathers on the bed.

He transformed into a cold and shivering man, who immediately started to shed boots and clothing. He crawled into the bed.

"Where have you been?" she said and wrapped her arms around her large, personal ice cube. He groaned and cuddled into the warmth.

"Stupid Fae and their ridiculous council meetings about nothing," he grumped. "Nattering on and on…" He pushed his cold nose into her neck, earning a shiver from her. She hugged him and rubbed his back, her worry dissipated by his presence. Her warmth welcomed him.

It was late and the fire was settling down into drowsy coals. The fireplace cast a warm glow in the cozy bedchambers.


	51. Group Session

_All the good stuff belongs to Henson And Company._

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**51: Group Session**

"Rodney, telling someone 'your mother is a fraggin' aardvark' is not a dignified way to express dissatisfaction with their behavior," said the goblin counselor. They were all sitting in a circle of folding chairs in the community room.

"Fraggle!" snapped Rodney.

"Can I just say something here?" interrupted the Hat. Since his marriage to the talkative Mrs. Hat, the group session was the only place he could get a word in anymore. The Wise Man snoring beneath the Hat mumbled in his sleep.

"Now, Hat," said the counselor. "It's still Rodney's turn."

Rodney sneered at the disappointed Hat. "Your mother is a fraggin' aardvark, too," he crowed.

"My mother was a crinoline cloche with ribbon flower trim!" yelled the Hat in an insulted fury.

Some of the group members began to giggle. An elf lit a cigarette.

"Pierce. We do not smoke in group," the counselor said. "We all agreed on this."

The elf looked annoyed but he put the cigarette out.

"Fraggin' aardvark," said Rodney to the elf.

"Yeah, well your mother is a burlap turban," said the Hat with malicious satisfaction.

"Frag off," yelled Rodney.

The goblin counselor sighed. This was the longest hour of his week.


	52. Fighting Style

_All the good stuff belongs to Henson And Company._

_Origin of this story: So I was wondering what would be the stupidest possible thing Jareth could ever say to Sarah._

_This one earns its 'M' rating for gratuitous vulgarity and sexual references; vulgar sexual references. I should be terribly ashamed. You shouldn't even read this. Fairly warned be thee, says I._

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**52: Fighting Style**

"You think so?" he yelled, loud enough to shake the dust from the rafters in the throne room. "Well, I think otherwise. And I have ways of getting what I want!"

"Yeah?" she jeered. "What ways? Because I think you're full of baloney!'

The goblins' heads were turning back and forth as if they were watching a tennis match.

He crossed his arms and looked down his nose at her. "All I have to do is withhold my favors," he said loftily. "You'll give in soon enough."

"HA!" she said. "You'd give in long before I would."

"Would NOT!" He was back to yelling.

She laughed nastily. "All I'd have to do is crook my finger."

"Yeah? Well, I've got a stack of Playboys and an entire bottle of Jergens, so think again, Babycakes!" he roared.

Sarah's mouth dropped open. The goblins' mouths dropped open. Jareth was giddily horrified at his own words, as if he were on a roller coaster approaching the long drop.

The goblins exited as casually as they possibly could. The cacophony of their studiously nonchalant whistling sounded like the discordant tootling of a third grade flutophone band.

"Babycakes?" she said softly.

Jareth gulped.

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_Don't ever call her Babycakes._

_The makers of Jergens hand lotion have in no way agreed to participate in this story. Please hold them blameless._


	53. Double Secret Mission

_All the good stuff belongs to Henson And Company. The other stuff belongs to Universal Pictures, and some guys._

_These little stories all exist in the same universe as "Color, Magic Color" but are not in any chronological order at all. If you wish, you can blame Jareth for messing with the clocks._

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**53: Double Secret Mission**

Five dark goblin shapes coalesced in the darkness. Bluto, Otter, Boone, Flounder and Pinto were dragging a cart and skulking through the midnight empty throne room. Flounder had agreed to provide libations for his sister's engagement party and so had recruited some friends. They had a mission that required stealth, precise timing and sustained effort. They were doomed.

While drunkenness was not an official job requirement for throne room goblins, it tended to be the norm and the five imbeciles were at present, well within the normal range. Bluto's toes had been painfully stubbed in the dimness and Boone had taken a pratfall. The cart had run over Pinto's foot.

Otter eventually ran across an unopened keg in the blackness. In haste, they hoisted it, but the heist was going badly. They could hear the guards approaching. Their bumbling efforts came to naught when, with a mighty, splashing crash, the keg upended the cart and broke open on the stone floor.

The next morning, Jareth told the Queen to determine their punishment, just for the practice. Sarah, giggling, suggested "double secret probation." Jareth didn't understand why that was funny and was annoyed that she wasn't taking her responsibilities seriously.

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_Where did she come up with the idea for "double secret probation?" _

_No fair Googling._


	54. The Troll Incident: Part 1

_The good stuff belongs to Henson And Company._

_**A WARNING NOTE:**__ Chapters 54, 55 and 56 are connected. Although they exist in the Color, Magic Color universe, they are very dark chapters. They have an M rating because of violence, death and unpleasantness. Feel free to skip them if this is not your cup of tea. Fairly warned be thee says I._

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**54: The Troll Incident: Part 1: The Goblin Knight**

"Who did this?" she said. Her voice was like black ice cracking.

"Trolls, Your Majesty, two of them," answered Sir Didymus. He was shivering. "They ambushed us. His Majesty put himself between them and us…" he paused. "The devils struck him. They struck My King." He was distraught, nearly weeping.

She carefully touched the blood soaked feathers on the laboriously panting owl. It was crumpled in a small and pitiful heap on its side. A terrifying amount of blood colored the towels beneath it. The long, talon tipped toes were curled in pain and the wings hung loosely as the dark eyes, black pools of suffering, focused on her face.

The iron-tipped arrow had penetrated his side. She was profoundly grateful that it hadn't killed him outright. The healer and the herbalist were plotting their course of action as they delicately examined the terrible wound.

"Were they captured?" she asked, still in that crackling, frightening tone.

"Yes," said Didymus. "They were interrogated."

"And?" she said.

"They were assassins, sent by the Troll Prince."

"Were?" she said.

"I killed them," said Sir Didymus. He was trembling, but his eyes were infernos of fury. "They struck My King," he repeated. "My King."

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_Who suffered the most pain here, Jareth or Sir Didymus? Discuss._


	55. The Troll Incident: Part 2

_The good stuff belongs to Henson And Company._

_**A WARNING NOTE:**__ Chapters 54, 55 and 56 are connected. Although they exist in the Color, Magic Color universe, they are very dark chapters. They have an M rating because of violence, death and unpleasantness. Feel free to skip them if this is not your cup of tea. Fairly warned be thee says I._

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**55: The Troll Incident: Part 2: The Goblin Queen**

Her boots clicked on the stone floor of the Troll Palace as she swept into the Troll King's throne room. The four goblins accompanying her were dressed in black armor, carrying long bladed, cold iron knives and marching in precise steps. Their faces were grim, ugly and frightening.

"How dare you invade my castle?" said the Troll King. His tone was not indignant, but genuinely curious. The guards arrayed about him surveyed the goblins with interest.

"I accuse the Troll Prince of conspiring to murder the Goblin King," she said without preamble.

Hisses of astonishment erupted from the assembly.

"That's a lie!" shouted the Troll Prince, leaping to his feet.

"Is it?" said the Troll King mildly. "Stepson?"

"Furthermore, the Troll Prince has treasonously schemed to usurp the Troll Throne by implicating the Troll King in this attempted assassination."

The Troll King sat upright. She had his full attention now.

"I trust the Troll King's discretion," she added.

"Thank you for bringing this to my attention," said the Troll King, eyeing the horrified Troll Prince.

Some time later, the Troll King's guards cautiously escorted them out. She was smiling, cradling the bloody heart of the Troll Prince in her hands.

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_Who do you think actually killed the Troll Prince? Discuss._


	56. The Troll Incident: Part 3

_The good stuff belongs to Henson And Company._

_**A WARNING NOTE:**__ Chapters 54, 55 and 56 are connected. Although they exist in the Color, Magic Color universe, they are very dark chapters. They have an M rating because of violence, death and unpleasantness. Feel free to skip them if this is not your cup of tea. Fairly warned be thee says I._

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**56: The Troll Incident: Part 3: The Goblin Kingdom**

"Why did you go to the Troll King's Court?" He sounded tentative, but she could hear the undercurrent of anger.

"It was necessary," she replied into the pillow.

"He could have killed you without a thought," he said, his anger floating closer to the surface.

"Jareth, the insult to the Goblin Kingdom could not be ignored. Every ambitious half-wit in the Underground would have shown up packing iron," she said quietly.

"I don't care!" he suddenly shouted, sitting up in the bed. "Never put yourself in danger like that again!"

She was suddenly ablaze with fury.

"You dare tell the Goblin Queen to foreswear vengeance upon those that harmed her King and her Kingdom?" she roared at him.

He was nearly stupefied with surprise, his anger burnt to ash in the fire of her rage.

"You should be glad I didn't set fire to the Troll King's Court," she continued in a milder tone. "I don't have a death wish, Jareth. I sent spies and bought informants before I ventured into his Court."

"I'm lying," she said after a long pause. She touched the scar on his naked torso. "I did it because of this."

"You idiot," he said.

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	57. Delusions

_All the good stuff belongs to Henson and Co._

_These little stories all exist in the same universe as "Color, Magic Color" but are not in any chronological order at all. If you wish, you can blame Jareth for messing with the clocks._

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**57: Delusions**

He bounced the fat baby on his knee and made chirping owl talk to him. The little boy in the red and white jumper laughed and attempted to grab his nose.

"Come here, Toby," he said. "Look at this." He conjured a crystal and held it in front of the child.

"See that?" he said. "That's your sister. She's talking to a funny junk lady. See the funny lady? Your sister's going to be mine just as soon as I let her win." He smiled. The baby smiled back at him.

"I think I'll call you Jareth. You should have a nice name during your short stay. Your little bum is going back home to Mummy and Daddy." He tickled the baby's tummy. Toby/Jareth giggled.

"I'm going to let her win," he said. "Your suddenly wiser and nobler sister will appreciate everything that I've done for her. She'll love me. She'll do as I say," he laughed. "I'm going to be her adoring slave."

"Of course, she's too young right now. She needs to grow up first, learn the customs and so forth." He sighed. "A few short years…"

He whispered to Toby, "I'm going to kiss her every day."

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_Oh. Poor, poor Jareth._


	58. The Goblin Fire Department

_All the good stuff belongs to Henson And Company._

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**58: The Goblin Fire Department**

Sarah found Jareth leaning out the window, surveying the town below and humming to himself.

"What are you doing?" she asked. He looked a little TOO happy.

"We're going to have a fire drill," he grinned.

"I see," she said. She looked out the window. There was a festive crowd of goblins gathered below.

"Watch this," he said and tossed a crystal. It floated down through the air and landed on top of a dilapidated and hazardous looking chicken house.

A loud honking sound filled the air. A lone chicken loudly vacated the chicken house. The crowd oohed.

The crystal stopped honking and burst into flame. The crowd aaahed.

Sirens could be heard in the distance. A cart laden with hoses appeared, accompanied by eager goblins in little fire helmets.

The crowd applauded as the firefighters stuffed one end of the hose into the fountain. A couple of goblins busied themselves on the hand pump, while others fought over the privilege of being "hose guys." The fire gradually burned itself out.

"Well," she said. "I guess I should feel safer since we have a fire department."

"Bollocks," he said. "If there were a real fire, I'd put it out myself!"

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_This was a planned burn, much like real fire departments perform. Even a madcap like Jareth doesn't go about lighting random fires._


	59. Explosive Ideas

_All the good stuff belongs to Henson And Company._

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**59: Explosive Ideas**

He stomped into the Royal Suite. He was soaking wet, disheveled and seemed out of sorts. He stalked over to the bar, pulled out a flask of brown liquid and splashed a healthy portion into a glass.

Sarah felt that this seemed familiar as he flopped down into his favorite overstuffed chair.

"Something wrong?" she asked.

"No," he barked.

"Want to talk about it?" she said in an encouraging voice.

"If you must know, the boiler on the steam powered generator blew up," he grumbled. "Again."

"Oh?" she said.

"The rivets popped when it hit 180 PSI," he sighed. "Some goblins were punctured."

"Oh, dear! Is everyone alright?"

"Well, half of them had to go to the healer to get rivets removed." He swallowed half of his drink in one gulp. "I gave everyone the afternoon off and all the ale they can drink. They're happy."

"Jareth, why are you so interested in generating electricity?" she asked.

"Well, it will improve the kingdom, of course," he said haughtily. "I am a benevolent ruler, after all, solicitous of my subjects' wellbeing."

She tilted an eyebrow at him. He downed the rest of his drink and refused to look at her.

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_I smell an ulterior motive…_


	60. Hose Day

_All the good stuff belongs to Henson And Company._

_From an idea by clever boots Ellen Weaver._

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**60: Hose Day**

You could say Hose Day was undignified and a King should not involve himself in such. You could say the necessity of Hose Day indicated a lack of hygiene that was an affront to the dignity of the throne room. You would be correct in saying those things. However, Hose Day was also a barrel of fun, and Jareth seldom denied himself even a smidgen of fun, much less an entire barrel.

He was wearing goggles, rubber apron, rubber boots, plastic rain bonnet, liberal smears of mucky backsplash and a demented grin. He was handling the GFD fire hose. A stream of water gushed from the hose, washing away the accumulated grime and debris. Drunken, soap lathered goblins were giddily taking turns being blown out the window by the powerful spray. The fire hose added a whole new level of fun to defenestration.

On a whim, he turned the spray to the dirty ceiling, causing a sheet of water to cascade over the entire room. He was laughing maniacally when he was interrupted by a screech.

He turned to see an annoyed Queen wearing a delightfully wet t-shirt and jeans. He was unable to dodge the soapy mop she wielded.

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_GFD = Goblin Fire Department. Did I cheat with an acronym to lower the word count? Yes, as a matter of fact, I did. Snerk._


	61. Finny

_Most of the good stuff belongs to Henson And Company._

_Finnvarrah Vercingetorix belongs to Ellen Weaver._

_This is M rated for sexual, uh, stuff. Yeah, vulgarity again, too. Fairly warned be thee says I._

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**61: Finny**

Finnvarrah Vercingetorix had an adorable honey brown face and exquisite Asian eyes. The small white horns that peeked, adorably, of course, through his curly black hair, invited caresses and kissing for luck. In addition to his visual charms was a healing touch, Finny's personal magic, which could bring the wounded back from near death.

Finny's magic touch came with a little something extra, though. During the healing process, the wounded were startled, and gratified, to discover that his touch provided very sexual feelings. In fact, there had been cases of self-inflicted wounds when the orgasm-producing Finny was around.

Unfortunately the goblins had only contempt for him and the feeling was mutual. Alas, Finny was a bit of a snob concerning the goblins.

Finny was skeptical when Jareth asked him to heal some goblins that had been injured during one of Jareth's interminable attempts to produce electricity. But, sure enough, the goblins had liked being healed very, very much.

"Now see, young Finnvarrah," Jareth said happily. "The goblins are actually forming a line to be healed. I'm sure they like you better now."

"Thanks, Buttface," said the latest goblin patient, lighting a hand-rolled, particularly foul smelling cigarette.

"Or not," sighed Finny.

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_I borrow a character and this is what happens to him. Tsk, tsk, tsk. _

_To see Finny being treated with the respect that a well-written character deserves, go read Labyrinth: Kingdom Come by Ellen Weaver. _


	62. Sledding

_All the good stuff belongs to Henson And Company_

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**62: Sledding**

Jareth was strutting through the crunchy snow carrying a sled. He was wearing a brand new pair of tight, black ski pants and he was putting a little extra 'oomph' in his stride for Sarah's benefit.

Sarah did appreciate the view as she trailed along behind him. She was considering giving his behind a pinch.

The goblins walking, skipping, hopping and occasionally crawling along single-file behind Sarah were oblivious to the King's ski pants. They were very excited about the sled.

Sarah wasn't too surprised when a snowball fight erupted behind her. However, she had no time to warn Jareth before a snowball smacked the back of his head.

He turned and the snarl on his face froze the goblins in their tracks.

"Do you want to go sledding or not?" he roared.

The overly excited goblins giggled.

"Aren't you ashamed?" said Sarah. "The King is doing something nice for you and this is how you act?"

The goblins were crushed by the Queen's disapproval. A small goblin sniffled.

"I'm so disappointed," said Sarah in somber, grieving tones. "Shame, shame, shame!"

The goblins burst into tears.

"Lighten up, Sarah," Jareth said, exasperated. "They didn't kill Bambi's mother, for Jim's sake."

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_In 1942, after a great deal of plotting, a massive expenditure of magical power, and special dispensation to go Above without a wish-summons, Jareth sneaked into a theatre with five goblins to see 'Bambi.' The goblins were traumatized for three decades. Jareth is still upset._


	63. Gracie

_All of the good stuff belongs to Henson And Company._

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**63: Gracie**

Jareth was escorting the elderly woman as she carefully scooted her walker across the throne room. She had been crying and looked as if she were trying to be brave. He was lightly touching her back, steadying her.

A glance from Jareth hushed the goblins. They peered at her with interest. A goblin dusted off a chair for her.

The room was silent except for the scrape of the walker and muffled sniffles.

"Here, Madam. Please sit down," Jareth said mildly.

The woman wearily sat.

"Now, Gracie," he said, "You have thirteen hours to think about your options. We do need a storyteller, please consider that."

"Instead of the wasteland," he thought to himself.

"Telling stories is why they wished me away," she said tearfully. "They just got tired of listening."

"Storytelling is a cherished gift in the Underground," he said.

"I don't believe I want to be a goblin," she said, feebly attempting to laugh.

"I wouldn't suggest it," he smiled gently.

"Are you sure no one will be coming for me?" she asked, a tiny thread of hope still dangling.

"No, my dear, I'm sorry," he replied.

He put his arm around her as she began to cry.

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_I don't really have much to say here except that being a caretaker can be a heartbreaking, grueling, physically demanding, financially burdensome, lonely and often overwhelming task. I think most caretakers could identify with the wishing away, but I also think most of them would never do that._


	64. Afternoon On a Hillside

_Most of the good stuff belongs to Henson And Company. _

_Finnvarrah Vercingetorix belongs to Ellen Weaver. His first appearance in 'Short Stacks' is in '61: Finny.'  
_

_A Labyrinth story about nothing. Excessive fluff warning._

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**64: Afternoon On a Hillside**

They were lounging on a green hillside when Jareth whimsically decided that Finnvarrah needed to have cornrows. Sarah agreed. Thus it was that Finny found himself sandwiched between the two of them as they braided his hair. Hoggle, dodging Jareth's poisonous glances, tucked himself behind Sarah and contrived a very presentable French braid for her.

Finn, eyes sleepily half closed, watched as goblins assembled and began to braid hair.

The subjects of the Underground adored their King and Queen and frequently imitated them. Braiding their peculiar hair seemed to be an innocuous occupation, so for the most part, Jareth ignored them. He did put down a squabble between four goblins who couldn't agree on what "warrior hair" was. He informed them that they would be wearing pigtails and that was that.

Jareth formed elaborate spirals around Finn's horns. Sarah had finished her portion and began to make fuzzy braids of Jareth's flyaway mullet. Hoggle had long finished Sarah's braid and was asleep.

As the afternoon sun warmed their bones, the crowd quieted. The goblins quietly slumbered as the King amused himself by giving them dreams of working in a chocolate factory with a conveyor that continually accelerated.

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_Who worked in a chocolate factory with a conveyor that continually accelerated? No Googling. People who watch "old TV" such as TV Land or ME TV will have the edge here._

_FYI: Underground conveyor belts are powered by goblins on stationary bikes. _


	65. A Frank Discussion

_All the good stuff belongs to Henson and Co._

_The Hoggle Fountain first appears in '24: Playing Hardball' and '25: A Stunning Reversal.'_

_Frank the Pigeon has previously appeared in '15: Dinner Conversation,' '21: Bird Brains,' and '33: Fowl Manners.'_

_Yeah, any story with Frank the Pigeon is going to be vulgar. Fairly warned be thee says I._

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**65: A Frank Discussion**

Frank was perched on the Hoggle Fountain. He had just done what pigeons do to statues. Ordinarily, he was fastidious in his habits, but he always enjoyed a prank. This was a rather tame prank, but he knew it would annoy that insolent dwarf, entertain Jareth and irritate that pretty little Queen.

The Queen was glaring down at him from the window above.

"Jareth," she groused. "Your friend is here."

"Who?" he said absently. He was going through some tedious paperwork and felt rather sleepy.

"Frank," she answered. "What does he always do that to the fountain? It's annoying and disgusting. I swear he does it just to irritate me."

"I'll talk to him about it," said Jareth, getting up from the desk.

He walked over to the window and stepped out, freefalling for an ecstatic moment before transforming into a small owl.

She watched out the window as the owl flew down to perch beside the pigeon. Several moments of cooing and trilling went on until the owl suddenly further anointed the statue. Much flapping and squawking of hilarity erupted.

"Dammit, Jareth!" Sarah yelled. The birds hastily took off.

"I'm going to fricassee that smart aleck," she grumped.

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_Jareth succumbs to peer pressure._


	66. Gone With the Wind

_All the good stuff belongs to Henson And Company._

_Third in an electrifying series. Also see '46: Shocking Developments' and '59: Explosive Ideas.'_

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**66: Gone With the Wind**

He stomped into the Royal Suite. He had a bruise on his face. He was limping, disheveled and seemed out of sorts. He stalked over to the bar, pulled out a flask of brown liquid and splashed a healthy portion into a glass.

Sarah sighed he flopped down into his favorite overstuffed chair.

"What happened this time?" she asked.

"Nothing," he barked.

"Want to talk about it?" she asked.

"If you must know, there was an incident with the wind powered generator," he grumbled. "Again."

"Wind powered?" she said.

"I have a three bladed propeller wind turbine."

"I see. Were any goblins harmed this time?"

"No, they're all fine." He swallowed half of his drink in one gulp. "Except for the ones that laughed. They're in the bog."

"Jareth, what exactly happened?" she asked.

"Well, I was doing a fly-by. You know, for inspection purposes," he paused.

"And?" she prodded.

"I flew into the propeller," he muttered.

She sighed and gave him a pitying look.

He downed the rest of his drink and studied his toes.

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_Many birds are actually killed by flying into wind turbines. He should be more careful._


	67. Picnic

All the good stuff belongs to Henson And Company.

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**67: Picnic**

She was walking across the room minding her own business when a pair of gloved hands slipped around her waist and lifted her off her feet.

"Hey," she sputtered. "What are you doing?"

"Having my way with you," he laughed, and carried her across the room.

"That's a nice thought, but I have important Queen Stuff to do right now," she protested half-heartedly.

"No, you don't," he said, and stepped up to the window sill and right out of the window.

She screamed in surprise as they fell and gasped when he transported both of them, reappearing underneath a weeping willow, dreamily drooping its leaves onto the lush grass beneath.

He was still holding her and deftly maneuvered her onto his lap.

"What's the big idea?" she said, pretending indignation.

He looked pleased with himself. She was griping at him, but she was also petting his hair and caressing the silky skin of his throat with her fingertips.

He twisted to reach behind himself and pulled a picnic basket into view. She watched with interest as he rummaged in the hamper and retrieved a delectable bit of chocolate confection.

"What will you give me for this?" he asked.

She smiled.


	68. Jesses

_All the good stuff belongs to Henson And Company._

_So, I've had some requests for a little "tie me up" action in Short Stacks. There are a few naughty fangirls out there. Tsk. Tsk. I won't name names. You all KNOW who you are. So after receiving yet another request, I decided to do so._

_I'll warn you though. This might not be what you were expecting._

_M rated for sexy times._

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**68: Jesses**

She held up the gauntlet and made eye contact with the small owl sitting on the adjacent rooftop. The owl fluffed up its feathers and screeched, but then it flew in through the window to perch on her leather covered forearm.

She took the silky ribbon jesses in her hand and tugged gently, causing the attached bells to jingle. The owl fluffed its feathers again and made a chirping noise. She turned toward the interior of the room and lifted her arm. The owl flew over to the bed and landed in the middle, his jesses trailing across the spread.

As she walked slowly to the bed, the owl transformed into her wide-eyed, unclothed and shivering lover. This was one of his favorite games.

She took hold of the now larger jesses wrapped around his ankles and pulling his legs out straight, tied them to the bedpost. He gasped as she trailed her fingers up his naked thigh.

She lifted the large hood from the bedside table and fitted it over his eyes. He made a trilling owl sound and turned his face to rest his cheek in her hand.

"We shall now discuss the discipline of falconry," she said.

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_Falconry includes straps and rigging with bells called "jesses" on the bird of prey's ankles and a fitted, and often nicely decorated hood over the bird's eyes to keep them calm. You can see how he might like that. Hoo boy._


	69. The Storyteller

_All of the good stuff belongs to Henson And Company._

_The Storyteller is first introduced to the Labyrinth in '63: Gracie."_

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**69: The Storyteller**

Little ones of every shape were clustered about her knees. A small elf hid in the folds of her skirt, playing peek-a-boo with his slightly bigger sister. A tiny goblin sat on the bracing span of her walker, staring up at her in wonder. A larger goblin child gazed at the beautiful dream catcher that dangled from a handle of her walker. The white feathers attached to it were supposed by many to be actual feathers of the King.

"And what do you think the wolf said?" asked the grey haired Storyteller.

"I'll huff and puff," was clear enough, but after that the chorus broke down as the children responded. She heard "eat you up," "blow the house over," and even "cut the cheese" from an inventive goblin child.

"That's right," she said, "and then the wolf…"

"Huffed and puffed," the children shouted and they all recited along with her, "and blew the house down."

"And then…" she prompted.

"King made him clean it up!" the youngsters yelled in ragged unison.

"That's right," she said. "Have you little wolves cleaned your rooms today?"

They responded with guilty grins and smirks.

"Scoot!" she said, and they scattered like laughing dandelion fluff.

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_Fairytales have a slightly different perspective in the Underground._


	70. Riverdance

_All the good stuff belongs to Henson And Company._

_These little stories all exist in the same universe as "Color, Magic Color" but are not in any chronological order at all. If you wish, you can blame Jareth for messing with the clocks._

_Frank the Pigeon has previously appeared in '15: Dinner Conversation,' '21: Bird Brains,' '33: Fowl Manners' and '65: A Frank Discussion.'_

_This story happened before Sarah came to live Underground._

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**70: Riverdance**

He was sitting on the roof of the castle, glowering down at the city below. He was beginning to think it might be best to just stay up there for a couple of weeks. Pestilent goblins! Irritating girlfriend!

He heard a fluttering sound, followed by scuffling noises and a "Whoops!" as Frank landed, transformed and scooted on the slippery tiles. Frank awkwardly flopped down beside Jareth.

"What are you doing up here?" he asked, panting.

"I couldn't take the noise anymore," Jareth grumped.

"What noise?" asked Frank.

"Sarah showed the goblins something called "Riverdance" on her television. It's a historical record about dancers that jump about making excessive noise with their feet. Goblin see, goblin do."

"Well, aren't they always jumping around?" Frank asked reasonably.

"Oh, but this is worse. You see, Sarah also sent them home with packages of dishes. Apparently they were her grandmother's. She's sending her belongings down as she gets them packed." Jareth was meandering off the subject, dreamily distracted by the thought of Sarah moving into the castle and into his bed.

"Are they breaking the dishes?" Frank said, aghast.

"No," Jareth sighed heavily. "Tell me, Frank, have you ever heard of bubble pack?"

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_I thought about referencing a more contemporary dance production than 'Riverdance,' but the idea of goblins attempting a stiff-armed Irish clog on a whole lot of bubble pack just warms the cockles of my heart._


End file.
